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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751070">Breathe Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tulikettu/pseuds/Tulikettu'>Tulikettu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Caduceus is a hippy, Internalized Self-Hatred, Low Self-Esteem, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Previous Abusive Relationship, also a coffee shop, alternate universe - modern additions, everyone loves a coffee shop au, the Wildmother is always watching, who lives in a graveyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:20:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tulikettu/pseuds/Tulikettu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fjord has just gotten out of a bad relationship and his friends are trying to help him feel better.</p><p>His self-esteem is at rock bottom and he thinks he has nothing good left in him. </p><p>No one else believes that, especially this new guy Jester works with.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caduceus Clay/Fjord</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Pride Month 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Breathe Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the 2020 Pride Month Prompt #12 - Alternate Universes.</p><p>I was in an abusive relationship for several years in my early 20s, and though there was no overbearing, underwater god involved it still left a lot of mental scars and triggers. If I missed any tags either for you or for anyone else who might read this please let me know and I'll add them.</p><p>Title is taken from the song Breathe Me by Sia. It popped into my head as I was trying to think of what to call this, then I went to look at the lyrics and they're pretty appropriate. Lyric video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFGvmrJ5rjM</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Fjord is opposed to this. He’s said as much many times, but he’s picked two of the worst people to argue with. Beau and Jester are stubborn and tricksy and persuasive in a way that many other people would call threatening. And sure Fjord is used to it, but he’s not immune, and the two of them have made him their mission. On their own they’re each something to be contested with, but together Fjord doesn’t stand a chance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So that’s how Fjord has found himself sitting on Beau’s sofa whilst they wait for Jester’s co-worker- and now Beau and Jester’s meditation guide- to arrive. Beau’s place is nice, airy and bright with the lack of clutter and trinkets that Jester and, to an extent, Caleb have dotted around their homes. Fjord likes Beau’s place because it makes it easier to think, and he’s sure he could probably have gotten out of this if he’d just asked to hang out here whilst Beau was at work to clear his head and get his life in order. But his brain is excellent at coming up with things way after the fact. And now he has to be put through guided meditation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not long out of a relationship, and it was both a bad and unhealthy one. In the few years he’d been involved, Fjord had slowly withdrawn from all of his friends, and by the point it ended he hadn’t seen any of them in months. It didn’t help that over a year before he’d packed his bags and moved away from the town they all lived and went to build his love nest on the south coast, meaning the only times they saw each other was when they or he saved up enough for access to the teleportation circles. Messages went unreplied to, letters were few and far between, and Fjord was stranded with no other options, he thought, but to make his relationship work. Because there was nothing else, he had nothing else. And without </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d be alone, a fact that was drilled into him over and over again whenever they fought. His friends didn’t care that much otherwise they’d visit more. His friends had all moved on and moved away and forgotten about him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But they were right there, welcoming him back in with open arms as though none of that had happened, as though Fjord hadn’t put a huge wedge in between them and let their threads of contact wear painfully thin. Fjord is lucky. Not only that, but they helped him move away from the place he and Avantika had been calling home. He’s sleeping on Yasha’s sofa for the moment, and it’s taken a long time to convince himself he’s not being a burden to her or the others. But there’s genuine joy on the faces of his friends when they see him, and they don’t expect anything of him, and it’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They message him and invite him out and he goes, mostly because Yasha is going and doesn’t let him back out. She’s not fierce, despite what her size would imply, but Fjord just hates seeing the disappointment on her face when he tries to come up with an excuse to stay home and wallow in his misery. He still needs to heal. He isn’t comfortable yet with the idea of going to therapy, because this shit runs deep, and he needs an anchor before he can dive into that, and fuck all these water metaphors, he’s sick of the ocean. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s moved a long way inland, but still the thoughts of the sea, that he once loved so much, give him deep anxiety now. Fjord had put in enough effort to look that up, what it all meant, the feelings of panic whenever he thought of the ocean, the swoop in his stomach like falling from a great height, the sickening prickle that crept cold across his skin when he heard the cry of a seagull. And his flinching whenever one of his friends was too loud or too abrupt or swore a little too much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yasha has got him used to saying words like that. Trauma and abuse. PTSD.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But no therapy yet. So he’s trying meditation at the recommendation of his two friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the descriptions of Caduceus, Fjord is absolutely not prepared for the man who walks into the room following Jester. He’s striking, owing to a combination of his height and his shocking pink hair, and just his aura. His smile is gentle and serene, the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit when he sees Fjord. He radiates a peacefulness that Fjord wants to be close to. And he’s undeniably handsome. Since the only people he’s actually spent time around recently are his friends, who are family to him, Caduceus is the first stranger Fjord has interacted with in a long time. And the first person he’s felt a rush of attraction to in what feels like (and may well be) years. That’s nice. He hadn’t realised he’d missed that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And this is Fjord. The one I told you about,” Jester says, making the colour drain from his face as quickly as it’s come. He doesn’t want his personal shit being aired to everyone, thank you, especially not weird hippy strangers. Fjord’s brow furrows and he gives Jester a look that she, as usual, pointedly ignores. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wonderful,” Caduceus smiles, his voice deeper than Fjord had been expecting. “Jester told me you’re good with wood.” He falters, turning his head towards Jester, who is already smirking at the low hanging fruit of that statement in her filthy mind. “Woodwork,” Caduceus clarifies, though it doesn’t stop the giggle from escaping the tiefling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And oh. Okay. Woodwork has long since been relegated to the ‘casual hobby’ pile of Fjord’s interests, his skills being left by the wayside when he had gotten a more respectable job at Avaktika’s request. He can’t actually remember the last time he made anything, or let himself just dabble, shape things, whittle a bit of wood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was looking for some help, some hands a little more talented than mine. Maybe we can speak later?” Caduceus asks, still smiling easily.It isn’t difficult to just fall into the calmness of this stranger's aura and be soothed by it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, sure,” Fjord nods, forgetting for a moment that they’re actually here to do something, too caught up in looking at Caduceus, mapping him out as though to commit him to memory in case this is the only time he ever gets to see him. It isn’t until the other three sit themselves down on the floor that Fjord remembers that there’s a purpose here, that this man hadn’t been invited over just to be stared at. A space has been left for him between Beau and Jester, so Fjord ungracefully settles into it, looking around at the others to see what he should be doing. Caduceus and Beau are cross legged, but Jester is slightly sprawled, one leg tucked under, her weight on her arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sit however you’re comfortable,” Caduceus says gently, which is easier said than done. Fjord used to be able to spend hours sitting on the floor, he used to be more flexible, his muscles easily moving into whatever position he wanted until sitting on the floor became ‘uncouth’ and his muscles reached their potential less and less.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He goes for a loosely cross legged position, facing this strange new person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I start by conversing with my diety, the Wildmother, but that is my own personal choice,” Caduceus addresses Fjord with such earnestness it’s a little overwhelming. “Jester and Beau begin in their own ways, and I won’t be offended if you choose this time to speak with your own god. The idea is to take a minute to ask for guidance, or to put our minds in a calm and open place in preparation for the meditation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord feels a twist of sickness in his stomach. Another reminder of what passed with his breakup. Avantika had been frighteningly devout, so obviously Fjord had as well. He had nightmares of that god, the greedy, persistent god hungry for their attention. He wouldn’t leave, He crept up when Fjord was sleeping to demand more, to stress that the worship he received wasn’t enough, that it could be so much better. And Fjord really doesn’t want to willingly invite Him into his head. If he does that then even his waking hours won’t be safe. Maybe he’ll just listen to the others, this is only his first time after all. It’s not going to change his life right off the bat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Folded into a close approximation of Beau and Caduceus’ poses,  Fjord closes his eyes warily as though he fears what he might see inside his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jester is speaking so softly that Fjord can’t make out the words, just the whisper of her breath from the space beside him. It’s the quietest he’s ever heard her. Cracking his eyes open slightly he can see Beau just mouthing silently, so his ears focus on Caduceus, whose voice is soft but the most audible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Melora, Wildmother, I thank you for the day you have given, for the dawn that followed the dark. I feel you in every breath and thank you for the life you have given, for the path you light for me-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s surprisingly easy to sink into the words, the soft timbre of Caduceus’ voice, let everything wash over him like gentle waves. Fjord can feel a breeze, warm as it brushes his skin, smelling of summer and the ocean. It’s odd, because they’re so far from it- but even more strangely, Fjord feels peaceful. He feels comfortable. Comforted. The thought of the ocean isn’t triggering crippling anxiety. He feels as though he’s being held, sheltered, that he can remember the things he once loved and enjoyed and the shadows that darkened them now will be kept at bay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jester and Beau breathe in and exhale together, and Fjord realises that Caduceus is speaking of that. Asking them to breath in. To search for tension in their body. Just to locate it. Inhale. Exhale. Imagining that tension like a ball of something. Inhale. Exhale. You can manipulate it. Take it in your hand. Feel it. Inhale. Exhale. You have control over it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord feels his tension like a ball of lead, like a cannonball heavy in his chest. He’s sure he couldn’t even get his hands around it if it was real. Nor lift it. Certainly not manipulate it. He’s going to fuck this up. The easiest thing in the world and he’s going to fuck it up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The breeze blows through again, reminding Fjord of summer in the boatyards, hammering things together, warm, sweet smelling wood beneath his fingers taking shape into something else. He could carry things then, heavy things. He’d cart them all over the place, up and down the docks to different ships or to other maintenance stations once his part was done. His muscles were sore at the end of the day, but the satisfied kind of sore. The cannonball inside him lessens slightly. He can smell the sawdust again, the salt in the air. He remembers when they were all younger, when they’d lived in Nicodranus, the evenings they’d sit near the water and drink and eat whatever had been cheap in the last hours of the fish market. They’d watch the ships and Fjord would talk about them, tell them what he’d built for them that day, show off the injuries to his fingers and hands. He can smell those moments, and they try to erode away at his cannonball, even as other memories try to rear up and take over- the way he’d noticed how different the smell was in Port Damali, the way that, even in the summer, it was never quite right. How he had gone back up the coast just to help load up the carts that were moving his friends north, the last time he’d done any heavy lifting, to say goodbye to them. No one had asked him to come, and Fjord had appreciated that, because he knew he would want to, knew the taste of the offer would lay bitterly on his tongue every single day-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s startled out of that by the feeling of hands on his own, gentle fingers on what Fjord now realises are his balled up fists.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it’s too big for you don’t worry. Don’t move it now. Inhale. Exhale.” Caduceus’ voice seeps through to him, as warm as the air still holding him in its embrace. “You don’t have to lift it alone. Your path is full of people to assist you. Inhale. Exhale.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On that exhale, Fjord relaxes, his shoulders drooping and his fists unclenching slightly so that Caduceus’ long fingers, for a moment, rest in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The breeze is cooling and sweet and so comforting. It feels as though arms are wrapped around him, but gentle flexes of his muscles find nothing tangible to press against, nothing physically there aside from the light contact with the firbolg, consistent and grounding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As we focus our breathing we’ll move away from that tension,” Caduceus is close but his voice is soft and unjarring, as though it’s always been there whispering to Fjord, guiding him. “Feel the air in your lungs. Feel your chest expand and shrink. Think of the oxygen moving around your body, giving life to the cells that are working all the time, keeping you alive. Think of what a miracle you are, how amazing your existence is, how millions of tiny factors came together to create who you are. How a place in the world was made for you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caduceus doesn’t let go of his hands, and whilst it’s odd because he doesn’t know this man (and there’s something a little intimate about the way their fingers rest against each other) he’s still glad because Fjord needs this something solid. And breathing in this sweet air it’s easy to imagine the life it’s given him, easier even to imagine that he’s not a burden, that he’s here for some purpose. He’s alive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the next few minutes Caduceus says nothing more than</span>
  <em>
    <span> inhale</span>
  </em>
  <span> and</span>
  <em>
    <span> exhale</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And Fjord is calm for the first time in- maybe years. Fjord feels peace, comforted by the soft breeze that blows around him every few heartbeats that triggers his nostalgia. He remembers being happy. It feels possible again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to come back slowly. You can visit your tension again, feel it, acknowledge it. We are all made of light and dark. A scale that goes back and forth. Let the room come back to you. Feel how the floor holds you. How your clothes embrace you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord's eyes open onto the sight of their joined hands, though his vision is a little blurry, and he’s startled by the heat of tears on his cheeks when he blinks to clear his vision. Oh geez. And it’s obvious now that they weren’t the first of his tears- he looks up at Caduceus, who seems unphased, eyes gentle as he watches Fjord. They’re pink with the tiniest flecks of lilac, bright around his slightly dilated pupils. His grip on Fjord’s hands tighten for a moment, and then he lets go and scoots back into his place in the circle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jester is grinning at him when Fjord focuses enough to look around, and Beau looks a little amused, though her gaze is directed down as she stretches out her muscles, arms above her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope this has been wonderful for you all,” Caduceus says, stretching his arms out too, rolling his head on his shoulders as though he’s been in one position for too long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that all?” Fjord asks, surprised, looking at the other two again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s been like an hour, dude. My back hurts, I’m gonna seize up if we’re here any longer,” Beau says, popping her joints as if to emphasise that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“An hour?” Fjord turns to look at Jester for confirmation. She just gives him a shrug and stands up easily, dusting herself down. It doesn’t seem possible. He’d have pinned it at twenty minutes, tops.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same time next week?” Caduceus asks, rising smoothly to his feet. He stoops slightly, masking his true height, but even then it’s hard to imagine him presenting as anything near intimidating. “Oh, Fjord, maybe you can stop by the coffee shop one morning in the week? I’d like your help with some things but there’s really no rush. I won’t ruin the mood by talking about work now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sure,” Fjord nods, remaining on the floor whilst Caduceus heads out, followed by Jester who shows him to the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord sits still, looking at the backs of his hands, quietly processing. And then he realises with a frown that the windows are closed. No one went over there after the meditation was over, so... they had to have been like that the whole time? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm. Does he do the wind thing every time?” he asks. He’s seen a number of his friends command the elements for effect, usually humorous, and it doesn’t surprise him that the same thing could be applied to a more serious, focused situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau looks at him. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The wind thing. The breeze,” Fjord reiterates, touching his fingers to his hair as though he can feel the ghost of it there. “It was warm.” Still nothing from Beau. “I thought the window was open.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>It smelt of home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beau replies gently, though there’s no hint of mockery in her voice. “But I’m glad it helped you. You look chilled. Gotta cry out some of the angst-” she adds, finally pushing herself to her feet in order to complete a few more elaborate bends and stretches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord remembers then that he’d been leaking from his eyes. He hastily wipes his face and looks at the windows again. Definitely closed. He searches for the lump inside his chest, the weight that had been there even before Caduceus had drawn his attention to it. It takes some time, as though it’s been hidden better. Or shrunk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The windows were open?” he asks Beau again, as though phrasing it a different way may garner a different response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beau looks at him curiously. “No. You must have been imagining it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It smelt like the ocean,” Fjord says softly, just as Jester comes back into the room. He thinks about asking her, but Jester is prone to psychoanalysing and he doesn’t want to deal with that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he feels good. It’s been a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He sleeps so well that night, curled up on Yasha’s sofa, really appreciating the softness of the bedding she’s given him. The recurring nightmare he has every few nights is replaced with a relaxing vista. He’s on a grassy cliff overlooking the sea, the sun is sinking low, it feels like it’s been a hot day. Someone is standing beside him, but he can’t turn to look at them, can’t properly work them out in his peripheral view, but he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He can just feel them there, keeping him company. The air smells like a mown meadow, flowers, the ocean scent mingling with it like it’s meant to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wakes up smiling and thinks that things really might be getting better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord waits for two days before he goes to the coffee shop. He figures he’ll go early in the day, just after what he assumes will be the end of the morning rush. And though Caduceus said he’d be there, Fjord is still surprised to see his tall figure moving around quickly, busy, serving patrons with an air of efficiency that his soothing, laid back aura during meditation really masked. But even busy Caduceus is graceful and smiling, and Fjord is certain the other man has never been flustered for more than a few seconds in his whole life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of Caduceus long ears twitches when Fjord walks in, triggering the bell that hangs above the door, and the firbolg looks up with that same soft smile on his face that he’d worn the other day at Jester’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last remaining patron leaves with their coffee and a packet of some baked goods, and the two of them are alone. Fjord has been in here maybe twice before when Jester had shifts and Beau had dragged him in to be sociable and keep her company through the slower parts of the day. It’s a nice little place, the air sweet with the deep undertone of coffee. The walls and floor are mismatched wood, as are the tables. Everything looks as though it were pulled out of a dumpster or purchased from a charity shop and cleaned up, but in a way that works. A handful of potted plants are littered around available surfaces, and there’s art on the wall that Fjord knows Jester created. The whole place is topsy-turvy and seems hashed together, but it’s a lucrative business underneath that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fjord! It’s lovely to see you,” Caduceus greets, and sounds as though he genuinely is pleased. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You busy?” Fjord asks, even though it’s obvious Caduceus is currently free. Even though he waited for Caduceus to be free before walking in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, not for the moment. Everyone’s got their coffee and everything’s ready for the day now. Have you had breakfast?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he gets closer to the counter Fjord can see there are trays stacked up on the table behind Caduceus, and a few boxes tucked out of the way in the room beyond. Obviously there’s a lot of things to unpack first thing in the morning, including all of the pastries that are being kept warm beside the barista’s workspace, and the cakes and sandwiches on display ready for the lunch rush.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Fjord says, because although he still has a bit of money to his name he needs that for other things, like slipping into Yasah’s bag when she’s not looking to pay her for the weeks groceries. And Yasha will have left him lunch, she always does, putting the tupperware box in the front of the fridge right on eye level every morning when she makes her own so that Fjord can’t miss it. So he can wait until he gets home later to eat. But despite Fjord’s answer, Caduceus is already putting a few pastries on a plate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been tinkering with these recipes for a while, would you mind letting me know what you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, that’s sneaky, and Fjord admires the play. But then- “Oh, you make- do you make everything you sell here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, no not everything,” Caduceus says, as though it’s not impressive that he’s made even </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the products being sold. “I make vegan things, and sometimes people don’t want that. So I just make a couple of different bits and pieces, just in case.” Caduceus puts a cup of coffee down too, with milk and sugar on the side, whilst Fjord starts on his taste testing, trying to eat as delicately as he can without his stomach growling, protesting that breakfast has taken so long to get here. And it’s fucking delicious, Fjord wouldn’t know it was vegan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a few stools and tables that need to be mended and repainted,” Caduceus says as Fjord eats, leaning himself against the counter. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, revealing his slightly-too-thin forearms covered in light grey fur. The fingers Fjord had been holding a few days ago are threaded together in front of him, not inviting any further touch. “From what Jester said you might be able to help? There’s no rush-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord nods his head, still chewing, aware that there might be a few pastry crumbs in his beard. Stools and tables he can do easily. Something he can do without much thought, just let himself get into a rhythm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s wonderful. It’ll be really helpful. Jester said you’re short of employment right now, so I can pay, and there’s certainly a lot of things I can find to occupy you. I’ve got to-do lists longer than my arm and I just can’t find time to get everything done before another round of chores needs taking care of,” Caduceus says, though his voice remains calm and measured, and once again Fjord thinks this man has probably never let that stress get on top of him</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t...Do you own this place?” Fjord asks. He’d thought that Caduceus just worked here with Jester. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes,” Caduceus smiles. “But I’m only here in the mornings. I have other things to tend to during the day. But my staff are all wonderful, and your help will mean a lot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord reaches for the coffee and adds milk whilst Caduceus rummages around behind the counter, putting more things away and then gathering up all of the trays into a neat stack, carrying them out to the back of the shop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you enjoy the meditation the other day?” he asks, appearing once again, wiping his hands down the pastel pink apron Fjord has just noticed he’s wearing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord pauses mid bite, cheeks flushing. There’s no way Caduceus doesn’t remember that he cried, probably the whole way through knowing his luck, and Caduceus had to hold his hands and help him through. But the firbolg is looking at him with innocent expectancy, as though he has no recollection of the whole session going south right into Emotional Valley.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was totally new for me,” Fjord starts anyway, wanting to at least get a little bit of a justification in before Caduceus settles on his judgement. “I tried to talk to Beau about it after, but I didn’t know how to word it. I think she thought I was nuts when I was talking about the breeze-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caduceus’ ears twitch again, and it’s genuinely one of the most endearing things that Fjord has ever seen, but the confusion on his face throws him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You felt a breeze?” he asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was imagining it,” Fjord says quickly, trying to sound assured of that in case Caduceus thinks he’s mad, too. “It smelt like the ocean, and we’re miles from the coast so it must have been all in my head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caduceus stares at him still, eyes a little wider than Fjord has seen them to date. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you a spiritual guy, Mr. Fjord?” he asks at length, a tiny tick of something in his tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord feels that sickening feeling curl in his stomach the way it always does when something from his past rears up unexpectedly. It ruins his enjoyment of the baked goods, which is an extra slap in the face. The memories of when he was religious, when he was spiritual, devoted, flash rapidly through his mind and make him close up. He feels himself physically withdraw into himself. He doesn’t want to devote himself to any other god, one that’s going to suck out his joy and ask for sacrifices and hurt him. Haunt his nightmares. Stalk him as he sleeps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t buy into any of that nonsense,” Fjord says firmly, even though Caduceus is too gentle for firm words, too good to have Fjord’s anger directed at him when he’s done more to soothe his aching soul than anyone else. “No gods are worth the effort they demand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately Caduceus wilts. It’s heartbreaking, just the sight of him shrinking, of his ears drooping, the brightness in his eyes dimming instantly. Fjord hates it but he isn’t going to put himself through that again. It doesn’t matter how good the sell, he’s not buying. There’s already one god he tried to satisfy haunting him and demanding more, no room for another. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have some of the stools back there if you want to work here,” Caduceus’ voice is very steady, but he hasn’t perked up again, and when he looks up his expression is closed off, which leaves Fjord feeling cold. “If you want to take them elsewhere to work on them that’s fine, but I’ll let Jester know to feed you if you stay. And she can message me if you need any more materials. I think I got everything when I was going to do them myself, but I’m not an expert.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord wants to apologise, wants to take Caduceus’ face in his hands, will him to look at him properly and beg for forgiveness. But someone has come into the shop, drawing Caduceus’ attention away from him, a slightly dimmer smile on his face as he takes the order and sets about making it. Fjord decides to take his coffee out back and do something useful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s an arrangement of stools and tables out in the room that adjoins the cafe. Some of them are a little bit broken, most just need a good sand down and a paint job. It’s a bright room, though, big windows let in the sunlight, and even more surprisingly, a whole cluster of pot plants have found their home out here. Near the plants is a pretty little table and chair set that the staff use for their breaks. Like everything else, the whole vibe of this room is ‘thrown together quickly with whatever we can find’, but Fjord really likes it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Caduceus said there are all the things one would generally need to do an easy flip of old furniture; paints, sandpaper, varnish, some nails and hammers, and a small saw. Despite the awkward situation he just left, Fjord feels an odd fondness blooming in his chest at the thought of Caduceus sitting here with a saw in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. Maybe he’ll leave the painting for Jester, but he can make everything sturdy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caduceus comes to say goodbye a while later whilst Fjord is sanding one of the stools down, and Fjord still feels guilty despite barely knowing the man. It’s felt so good to be doing something physical, to be using his hands and breaking a slight sweat. And the smell of the sanded wood has brought him right back to working on the ships. He wants to thank Caduceus for this, for the feeling that’s making him feel incredibly alive, and at the same time apologise, because he’s just an asshole- but he doesn’t. He just says goodbye, tells Caduceus this’ll be done soon, wishes him a good day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At length Jester brings him another coffee, and Fjord doesn’t want to mention he upset Caduceus, because everyone here is being beyond generous to him despite how many fuck ups he’s made in the recent past. That, and only a monster would upset such a kind man. He wonders if she noticed anything was wrong, or if Caduceus has just written Fjord off as a lost cause and is perfectly happy around everyone else. He hopes that’s the case. No one else should suffer because of him and his stupidity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Caduceus said to give you anything you want before he left. Coffee or food or I guess whatever you want,” Jester says, leaning against the doorway between the back room and the cafe, eating one of the vegan pastries and looking pretty pleased with herself. “You must have really impressed him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord puts down the sandpaper and picks up his coffee, grateful for a break as much as he’s enjoying the ache in his muscles </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know about that,” Fjord replies, sipping his drink and looking around at the productive mess he’s made. “He’s just really kind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is,” Jester agrees with a bright smile, which only makes Fjord feel worse for being so sharp with him. Luckily the distant jingling of the bell on the front door draws Jester back inside before he can let her know that he, Fjord, is a horrible person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord knows that he isn’t going to be able to rest until he apologises. It’s not just the two coffees and the enjoyment of work making him buzz, unable to settle and concentrate properly. He’s awful. He’s a terrible person. He thought he was better than this now. He’s worked so hard on being better, but he’s still careless with other people and their feelings, just like Avantika told him he was over and over again. That’s why they couldn’t have more friends. Why his own friends moved to the other side of the country. He’s still clumsy and doesn’t think. He’s cruel. She was right then and she’s right now. And he needs to work harder. He needs to be better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Jessie,” Fjord has tidied up, left everything orderly for the next day, though there’s not a lot he can do about the state of his clothes which, though he’s dusted them down, still cling onto literally swathes of sawdust like he’d been rolling in it. “I need to ask Caduceus something, do you know where he is right now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jester nods around another pastry. “Sure, Fjord. He’s at home, but I can just give you his number.” She moves to get her phone out of one of the pockets of her dress before Fjord stops her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I kind of need to talk in person,” he replies, surprised when Jester just shrugs and readily gives him Caduceus’ address, scrawling it on the back of a napkin. But she doesn’t know how awful he’s been, she doesn’t know why he needs to talk, that he needs to apologise for himself and who he is. Still, Fjord appreciates it, taking the napkin and tucking it into his pocket. “Cheers, Jess. I’ll see you later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm, give my love to Caduceus,” Jester says in a sing-song voice, grinning at Fjord as he makes his way out the front of the store.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He has to walk because he doesn’t have a car or money for transport, but from the crude little map that Jester also drew it’s not really that far away, and Fjord can walk fast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though it turns out that Caduceus’ place is pretty difficult to find. It takes two passes before Fjord realises he might be looking for the area on the other side of the road to where he is currently pacing. Huge trees are contained behind a hedge fence, and the air between them looks cool, almost glowing green in the light that filters through their leaves. There’s a gate and a sign a little way down that Fjord heads for, squinting up and reading it once he’s close enough. Grove Cemetery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jester didn’t write anywhere on the napkin that Caduceus lives in a cemetery, of course. Those are the kinds of details she always neglects to add until they’re all running for their lives in high heels or staring at a burning cart whilst two horses gallop out of sight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He reaches the gate and peers in. It’s beautiful. Perfectly wild and neatly kept at the same time. He rests his hand on the gate and feels a breeze catch up with him, carrying the smell of the plants and grass, the trees that are tall enough and abundant enough to cast cool shade over everything he can see contained within the hedges, tiny patches of light dancing as the sunlight breaks through. There’s a saltiness in the air too, and despite how odd that seems Fjord breathes in deeply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart beats faster, loud in his ears, and as he closes his eyes he feels the breeze wrap around him once more, warm and protective like an embrace, promising safety and healing. He feels as though he’s returned from a battle to the arms of a loved one, knowing he’s come home. It’s the hug he’s needed for so long but hasn't been able to ask for from anyone because he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to feel peaceful or cared for. He’s a bad person. But the embrace doesn’t falter. It’s strong. The air he breathes is saltysweet and soothing, his grip on the gate is tighter, because he doesn’t want this to stop. He wants to stay like forever, to feel wanted and cared for and loved despite his flaws. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shiver runs through him when he feels gentle fingers on his own, stroking the back of his knuckles. He doesn’t want this to end yet, so he just parts his fingers slightly and allows the others to slide between his own. In his mind's eye Fjord sees a woman beside him, soft and smiling, beautiful. She’s embracing him and reassuring him, and his heart aches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Caduceus is holding his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Wildmother is with you, Fjord,” the firbolg’s voice is just a whisper, but it’s strong and just as comforting as everything else. “She wants to help you love yourself the way that She loves you. Don’t worry about who you were before. Every day is a new chance to make right, to choose better. To do our best. We are just cells and energy. Life is hard-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord feels Caduceus’ forehead rest against his own and he lets out a rough, shaking breath, realising that he’s crying again. But he leans into the touch, relishing the physical contact, pressing into that and squeezing the fingers between his own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can ask for help. Ask for strength,” Caduceus continues, and it doesn’t sound like a bad idea when he puts it like that. It doesn’t feel so difficult.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord nods, his nose bumping against the bridge of Caduceus’; another shaky breath exhaled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warmth around him abates slowly, but Caduceus is still there, solid even with the gate between them. Their fingers are still awkwardly twined together, though it seems to be understood that Fjord needs that contact, he’s not ready to stand on his own yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t expecting you,” Caduceus says gently.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- I needed to see you,” Fjord replies quietly, a little alarmed by the movement that comes from Caduceus shifting one hand to Fjord’s cheek, cupping it, his thumb brushing over cheekbones that are slightly damp with shed tears.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m flattered,” there’s a smile in Caduceus’ voice. “But I don’t suppose you came here for this-” his fingers wander up to Fjord’s hair and he tips his head fractionally to bump their noses together once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord leans into the touch, as though just now realising how staved of gentle physical contact he is. He’s worried that as soon as he says anything Caduceus will pull away and leave him here, remember how dismissive Fjord was of him earlier, and not want to waste any more of his precious time on someone who was so cutting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“- so to what do I owe the pleasure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord opens his eyes and two tears roll down his cheeks. But still, the man opposite him is gazing back, smiling warmly. He has such lovely eyes that Fjord gets lost in them for a second, before managing to take a deep breath. Then he remembers he’s been asked a question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I needed to apologise to you. I couldn’t go home, I wouldn’t be able to rest if I didn’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caduceus cocks his head slightly, expression still so sincere, so attentive. “Okay. What do you think you need to apologise for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord tries to remember back to what it was, what he’d said or how he’d said something. Both were problems for him. Avantika had always called him out on his tone, how patronising he could be, or how rude he was. “I don’t- remember. It was something I said.” He looks away, wracking his brains, not wanting to have come all the way here, disturbed Caduceus, wasted his time because Fjord couldn’t pull himself together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t upset me that I can recall,” Caduceus says, stroking his knuckles across Fjord’s cheek to wipe the still spilling tears. No one has ever done that to him. Even through all of the tears he cried around Avantika, she had just let him cry it out, let him get it out of his system, given him space and not spoken to him until he’d calmed down and said sorry. “Why don’t you come in?” Caduceus murmurs, his big hand cupping Fjord’s face again. “This gate is getting in the way just a little bit, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord reluctantly moves back so that the gate can be opened, and wonders if the look of relief on his face is incredibly obvious when Caduceus reaches for him again, taking Fjord’s hand in his own. Their fingers lace together, and it should be a little bit odd, holding hands with a stranger, but it’s absolutely not. The sensation of being cared for settles warm in his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you said anything that you think upset me then it obviously doesn’t matter now. I’m glad to see you. Let me show you around,” the firbolg says softly, squeezing Fjord’s fingers in a way that is instantly comforting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You live in a cemetery?” Fjord says as they pass into the trees and the greenery. There are headstones littered around that he can see now, many of them perfectly maintained. Sticks of incense burn on some, clearly recently lit. Others have flowers blooming all over them, green vines winding their way over the stone. Fjord feels warm. He’s full of little bubbles of happiness that originate in his stomach and fizz their way upwards, a complete turnaround to how he’d felt only minutes ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I tend to the graves,” Caduceus replies smiling, looking around and what is obviously his handiwork. “It’s my main job. The coffee shop is just a little extra. The dead stop paying after a while, but they still need taking care of.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can feel something, Caduceus,” Fjord says, speaking of whatever the thing is that has nothing at all to do with their hands clasped together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm, yes. It’s strange, but I’m honestly delighted.” Caduceus slows down their pace, swinging their hands gently, easily, as though they’ve done this a hundred times before. “I wasn’t expecting it when we met, and when we meditated I thought you were just overwhelmed by the experience. But when you told me earlier today about what you felt-” (That was it! Fjord remembers. He’d rudely dismissed Caduceus’ conversation about spiritualism, his question on Fjord’s feelings on the matter. But Caduceus breezes on as though he doesn’t recall that.) “-I couldn’t really believe it. Then I found you at the gate, and I knew that look on your face. The Wildmother wants you, Fjord. And before you say anything more, this doesn’t happen all the time. She doesn’t just pick people to care for- those who come to Her on their own, certainly, but She doesn’t reach out to people very often.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Wildmother. You mentioned her-” Fjord says, remembering back to the beginning of the meditation, when Caduceus had spoken to Her and thanked Her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t touch everyone, She doesn’t like to interfere, but She must have wanted to take care of you,” the man beside him is almost buzzing with excitement, but he keeps it under control. It’s only obvious in the slight wobble in his voice and the tightened grip of his fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fjord huffs out a little laugh, because that’s exactly how it feels. Cared for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know everything you’ve been through, only the way Jester has spoken about you, but I gather you’re carrying some burdens. But I can help you,” Caduceus says gently, stopping them in front of a statue of a beautiful woman. “I can help you get to know Her, if you’d like. There’s no pressure, no obligation, I promise.” Fjord gazes at the statue and already recognises Her. He feels love radiating from the statue. He can tell that Caduceus is holding back, and that his offer is tentative, not wanting to push Fjord.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please. I’d really like that,” Fjord nods with a reassuring smile, thrilled to have Caduceus’ help to connect more with the Wildmother, to know what to do to embrace Her back, to repay Her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be a pleasure,” Caduceus replies, ducking his head slightly to look towards the statue before squeezing Fjord’s hand gently once more. There’s no trace of suggestion in Caduceus’ voice, but Fjord thinks about it anyway. How Caduceus is the opposite of Avantika, and how he needs that- maybe not right now, but the feeling of Caduceus leaning into him, their foreheads pressed together, how easy it’s been to hold hands- Fjord wants to feel more of that in the future. The warmth in the way the firbolg looks at him, the consideration, the kindness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll take everything slow,” Caduceus says softly, as though reading Fjord’s mind, his expression almost shy as his attention returns. “Would you like a cup of tea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tea sounds perfect,” Fjord nods, breathing in deeply, filling his chest, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I decided this year I'm going to write a big Fjorclay fic for NaNoWriMo, rather than coming up with something original, so if any of you have any prompts or wishes or anything, drop them in the comments and I'll use a few.</p><p>I'm posting four fics today, sorry for the spam.</p><p>Take care of yourselves, and be kind to each other.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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